


Beguiled

by karasunovolleygays



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: General Filth, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Pole Dancing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: Koutarou surprises Daichi in all the right ways.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Beguiled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DHeitchou12892](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHeitchou12892/gifts).

> Dear giftee, I hope you enjoy this. I knew as soon as I saw the assignment, it was gonna be this ship.

Daichi’s heart beats loudly in his chest as he nestles into the covers beneath him, wrists straining against the silken ropes binding him to the bedposts. Despite the overall chill in the room, sweat glistens on his skin and his cock is so, so hard.

Has he been there for a few minutes, for hours? Daichi can’t rightly say. The only thing he can wrap his brain around is the way his every nerve buzzes in anticipation. He doesn’t know what’s coming, but considering the person he’s waiting for, he knows he’ll want every last bit of it.

The telltale hum of a chipper song wafts into the room, along with the spicy aroma of Koutarou’s favorite wax burner scent (some sort of pie thing). It brings a tide of thoughts to Daichi’s brain: recalling the last time he ate something sweet, how much he loves when Koutarou sings to himself, a rush of well being because Koutarou sings when he’s happy and there’s nothing Daichi likes better than that.

When the door creaks open, Daichi’s attention snaps to it. His mouth runs dry when he takes in the sight of Koutarou’s attire — a black and white leather corset with panels of gold lace, thigh high stockings to match, and something that could loosely be categorized as underwear, even though it barely cages Koutarou’s generous assets. Shimmering gold eyeliner catches the soft light of the streetlamps streaming through the crack in the curtains, brilliant against his bronzed skin.

“Koutacchi,” Daichi rasps, heart rattling in his chest. “I —” A hundred things clamor to follow. _ I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. I can’t believe how hot you are. I love you so much. _ Instead, he whines, “Fuck.”

Koutarou waggles his eyebrows and grins wide. “Oh, there’s plenty of time for that. First, I’ve got something to show ya.”

Daichi gawks with his jaw hanging open when Koutarou saunters over to the corner of their bedroom where the pole Daichi uses for indoor exercise stands gleaming from floor to ceiling. It’s always been Daichi’s thing, a way to burn away excess energy and keep flexible on days working at home separates him from his usual routine of running and the gym.

But it’s always only been _ Daichi’s _ thing. While Koutarou has made no bones about being an avid spectator, he’s never seemed inclined to take a whirl. Which in itself is crazy to Daichi because Koutarou has always been a try-everything kind of guy. Until now, that is.

Titillated yet hopeful this night won’t end with a trip to the emergency room, Daichi gasps shallow breaths as he beholds Koutarou wrapping his arm and leg around the pole in textbook fashion for a graceful spin.

Apparently his knowledge of Koutarou’s interaction with the pole is greatly outdated.

Daichi’s cock aches when Koutarou grips the pole with his thighs and hangs upside down, right at eye level. 

“Look at you, babe,” Koutarou croons. “All hard and waiting for me. I’m gonna make this a very happy birthday for you.”

Arms straining against his bindings, Daichi now knows why Koutarou had insisted on them. If he had use of his hands, he could and would have wrenched Koutarou right off that pole and fucked him senseless. His hips agree as they buck at the concept. 

Koutarou executes a perfect dismount and sits on the edge of the bed, fingers whispering up Daichi’s length but never actually touching. “Just a little bit more, babe. Be good for me.” 

Daichi doesn’t answer; he can’t. Instead, he knocks the back of his head against the headboard a couple of times and hopes Koutarou is fluent in Horny and Stupid.

“That’s my Daichi.” Koutarou leans in and snares a kiss from Daichi’s arid lips. It can’t have been pleasant, Daichi muses, but the way Koutarou glows and giggles says otherwise. “I still can’t believe we’ve been together for over three years and you still blush when I kiss you. It’s kinda cute.”

Is his face (amongst other things) red? Yes. Is it because he still flushes like a schoolgirl when Koutarou touches him in any way? Maybe, maybe not. Is he burning from the nerves out because he’s aroused. Oh hell yeah, he is.

With a few lithe motions, Koutarou resumes his routine on the pole, and Daichi is rapt. Having done this type of dance for the better part of two years, he is keenly aware of how long it takes to attain that level of precision and skill. Even if Koutarou were to admit he has been using it since Daichi installed it, he would be hard-pressed to accept that this isn’t something Koutarou has been doing for far longer than that.

All thought ceases the moment Koutarou executes a midair split.

“Oh, shit.” Daichi’s whole being thrummed with need, his arousal full and untouched. Desperate for contact, he awkwardly traps his cock between his thighs and writhes until he can wrest away some semblance of friction. 

Even as he scrambles for sensation, Daichi doesn’t take his eyes off Koutarou for a moment. Glistening limbs wend their way around something that had been a simple piece of exercise equipment a few hours before, a fact that will never exist again for Daichi. He hasn’t forgotten the most important thing of all, though, and that is how much he loves Koutarou.

It isn’t until Daichi is ready to wrench the posts right off the bed that Koutarou dismounts for the final time. Hip jutting against the pole, golden eyes peer down at Daichi through sweat-slicked bangs with his chest straining against the corset as he catches his breath.

“You ready for dessert, babe?” Daichi shivers in reply and Koutarou’s grin widens. “Thought so.” 

Daichi stifles a loud groan at the play of muscles underneath Koutarou’s bronzed skin as he crawls down the length of the bed, their gazes locked on each other. There’s no pole anymore, no haze of streetlight, no outside world. Koutarou is the only thing in the world to him now.

When their lips finally meet, Daichi leans into it until the ropes binding his wrists dig deep into his skin. Koutarou chuckles into his mouth and grinds hard into Daichi’s lap. Daichi wrenches his mouth away to bang the back of his head against the headboard and growl, “Fuck.”

“Did I tease you too much, Sawamura?” Koutarou’s tongue darts out and traces the line of Daichi’s jaw, eliciting a shudder. Over Daichi’s ear, he whispers, “I love the way you react to me, baby.”

The telltale creak of straining wood greets the night air in reply. Daichi’s wrists thrash at his bindings, desperate to touch anything, to touch everything. It only worsens when Koutarou’s mouth starts blazing a trail of butterfly kisses down the breadth of Daichi’s chest. 

His vision blurs as raw need grips Daichi’s every sense. Koutarou’s presence envelops him. While over the course of the past few years they’ve had their fair share of sex, this is something entirely different. It’s heated like passion, soft like seduction, raw with need.

A growl tears from Daichi’s hoarse throat when Koutarou’s roving lips brush against his length. It’s all he can do to keep from coming right now and ruining Koutarou’s gorgeous performance (and outfit) by having the control of a middle school kid. 

Koutarou must hear Daichi’s thoughts, or maybe he’s about to lose it, too; Daichi doesn’t care. His only tie to reality is the welcome weight of Koutarou straddling his waist. 

“I think you’ve waited long enough, baby,” Koutarou whispers against Daichi’s lips. “Just leave everything to me.”

The drumbeat of his heart throbs in Daichi’s ear while he watches Koutarou reach around and ease a plug from his hole, and a dribble of lube oozes onto Daichi’s pelvis. A noiseless shout rushes out as Koutarou lowers himself onto Daichi’s desperate cock.

Wriggling his hips, Koutarou throws Daichi a crooked grin. “Nobody fills me up like you do, babe. I love the feel of you inside me.”

The brazen comment urges Daichi’s hips to twitch up, begging for more. “K-kou —” Daichi can’t force out the rest of his lover’s name. Words are woefully, stupidly inadequate for the rush of adoration he wills toward Koutarou.

Maybe he doesn’t need to say it, after all.

Koutarou kisses him until neither of them can catch a full breath, and then his hips begin to move. Smooth and brisk, Koutarou’s ass slaps down on Daichi’s lap. The motions slowly work Koutarou’s own arousal out of its lacy cage, and Daichi can only growl at the sensation of it clapping against his stomach.

Just as Daichi begins to wonder if he can cope with the urge to come anymore, Koutarou leans forward and crushes their mouths together. Their lips part with a _ pop _, yielding a grinning Koutarou. “If I let you loose, you promise to have your wicked way with me, Dai-chan?”

“_Yes_.” 

The moment Daichi’s wrists are liberated, he flips Koutarou onto his back and buries his cock to the hilt. Something feral in his gut thrashes as he watches Koutarou’s eyes roll back and his mouth hang slack.

“Oh fuck, baby, yeah!” Koutarou rasps, fastening his legs around Daichi’s waist. “You fuck me so good, Daichi. So good.”

Every lewd word from Koutarou’s lips sets fire to Daichi’s blood. He tears Koutarou’s underwear off in one rough motion and pumps Koutarou’s length in sync with his own pace. 

“Fuck me, baby, fuck me!” 

Daichi pounds into Koutarou, drinking in the strains of pleasure pouring from swollen lips. He isn’t going to last much longer, but he won’t finish until Koutarou does. On cue, Koutarou spills himself into Daichi’s fist, insides clenching around Daichi. The pressure ramps up the fever pitch of his thrusts. Seconds later, he comes hard and fast.

As Koutarou’s legs drop back onto the mattress, his arms wind around Daichi’s torso and draw him close. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

“Not as good as you are to me,” Daichi murmurs against Koutarou’s cheek, leaving a chaste kiss so aberrant against the lingering smell of sex in the room or the sensation of his softening cock slowly sliding out of Koutarou’s dripping hole.

The streaks of moisture trickling down his thigh catch the chill of the winter’s night air, and Daichi shivers. “You know what would make this the best night ever?”

“Oh?” Koutarou raises his head from his place buried deep in the curve of Daichi’s shoulder and smirks. “I’m listening.”

Daichi snares a quick kiss and breaks off with a chuckle. “A shower."

Koutarou’s rich laugh fills the room as he leaps off the bed like he hadn’t just been fucked right into the mattress. “I like the way you think, Daichi. Let’s go shower together. Maybe someone will write a romance novel about us.”

“We got the smut part down.” Daichi takes the hand Koutarou offers him, and they meander into the shower together like there’s no place they’d rather be.

  
  



End file.
